In your footsteps
by Sayoko Noari
Summary: The Wizarding world is connected with parallel world - the World of the Elves. King Roben rules this land for centuries. His only daghter Reyn is meant to be his hieress and future Queen. The Elves have a merely contact with wizards. But even here is Lord Voldemort able to come with his brutal rule.


**Frosty Dance**

In the sky grey clouds were passing through Moon. It was night in January. However there was no snow. So it was an advantage. People can't leave footsteps behind themselves. At least not ones you could see. The Surroundings were covered in black robe of darkness. The cold air made painful needles in chest of stray souls. On the frozen ground meandered a gray path to a slight hill.  
Through this scary scenery walked a man. He was dressed in black robe. He wore a hood and face mask. He stopped, looked at the road ahead him and sighed. His breath created a cloud of steam which disappeared to the gray wasteland. He took a deep breath and resolutely went on.  
The cloak blew in the violent wind.  
He rubbed his forearm and hoped that nothing goes wrong. He finally came on the top of hill, he was shivering with cold and suddenly a fear swallowed him. What will happen? In the silence the wind howled through branches of leafless tress. He tightened his grip on a wand in his sleeve. His eyes roamed from side to side. Everywhere was an uncomfortable silence. His waiting was devastating. His nerves were shredded to pieces. Suddenly in the air flashed a zigzag flash of the white light. The man fell to his knees and his wand flew out of his hand. The hood fell down from his head.  
"Don't kill me!"  
"That was not my intention," said someone.  
The man looked up. When his sight met those electric blue eyes, another wave of fear passed through him. Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all times. He watched him carefully. The direct stare without a hint of compassion was terrible. It was passing through him, stabbing into the remaining little piece of humanity which the man had. Without words Dumbledore blamed him for his horrible deeds. The silence of his former mentor led him almost to the madness.  
"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"  
"No—no message! I'm here on my own account!" Severus Snape was wringing his hands; in his eyes was a look of insanity.  
"I come – I come with a warning… No, a request – please…" Dumbledore waved his wand. And suddenly everything was quiet.  
"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"  
"The— the prophecy… Trelawney… "  
"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "I suppose you told him everything?"  
"Everything I've heard," admitted Snape. "He thinks it means Lily Evans!"  
Dumbledore sighed. "The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July."  
Snape closed his eyes. He was looking for the right words. Courage. He wanted to escape. He wished to disappear, to be invisible. He opened his eyes but instead of making eye contact with other man, he stared at the ground. Actually… He felt like a coward. He knelt in front of the Headmaster and wasn't able to look to his eyes.  
"You know what I mean," started quietly. "He thinks it means her son. He is going to find them and kill them all…"  
"If she means so much to you, why don't you ask Lord Voldemort to spare her in exchange for her son?"  
Snape never felt so sick of himself like right now. He felt a bitter taste on his tongue.  
"I already did it," he said.  
"You disgust me." In Dumbledore voice was heard contempt. "You do not care about her husband and son? It doesn't matter when you get what you want?"  
He couldn't say anything on this. Unfortunately it was a cruel truth. He loved Lily and don't care about Potter. Why should he? Thanks to him he had hard times in Hogwarts. He bit his lip, he had an idea. But he didn't like it.  
"Hide them all then," he croaked after a while. "Keep her… Keep _them_ safe. Please."  
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"  
"In return?" Snape looked up from the frozen ground. "Anything."  
Dumbledore smiled slightly, for one second, and then became serious. It was terrible for him to see his former student going to the dark side - The desperate Death Eater asking for help from the greatest enemy of his master. Regrettable. When did he become that? If his memory was right, he wasn't so bad in school. Albus sighed, surely it was because of the bullying. Dippet didn't want to do anything with it, but he hope that Severus could have dealt with it alone. And that was the biggest mistake.  
But now, he suddenly showed his feelings. His bright side - perhaps everything wasn't lost yet.  
"Maybe I am able to came up with one thing you could do right now," said Dumbledore after a while of hesitation. "Join us, Severus."  
"But…"  
Dumbledore lifted his palm. "Don't interrupt me. I know that Lord Voldemort won't let you just walk away. So I'm suggesting a solution. Become my spy. It never hurts to know your opponent."  
Snape's face was pulled into a frown-like grimace. It was risky. But did he have a choice? _No._  
He took a deep breath. That could cost his life. But he would do anything for Lily Evans.  
"Alright," he said.  
Albus Dumbledore smiled. "I am glad you are on our side again, Severus." He looked up to the grey sky and with silent _bang_, disappeared.

xXx

The Headmaster of Hogwarts was sitting in his office then he thoughtfully looked on portraits of his predecessors. He felt it was just a moment ago when Dippet passed away and he sighed, it was too much for him. The school management, the protection of students, the Order of Phoenix… And now the protection of the Potters too.  
Just a few hours flew by after a conversation with the Death Eater. Only he and a few selected people knew where Potters were.  
Dumbledore straightened up; Something was wrong. He turned around a circle - Strange, everything seemed to be normal. His eyes roamed round the office, and he dispatched quiet impulses of magic, but he didn't feel the presence of anyone. Then his gaze stopped at the fireplace. In surprise he watched how the warm orange flames were changing, from the logs was reluctantly rising a purple color. Slowly it started devouring warm color and turned it in the cold. The flame got bigger and purple changed into the dark violet. The fireplace crackled. And suddenly in the office was another being.  
Dumbledore got up from his chair and walked to the visitor.  
"Very impressive entrance, Romben," he said.  
As if he needed it. Around a tall figure was faintly pulsing a golden aura, long hair that was as black as ebony with grey stripes was tightened together with a piece of golden fabric. Today he was dressed in emerald green robes which were made from a material finer than a spider's thread. Romben's face had sharp features but his eyes were hiding love.  
"Kings must be impressive, you know," he smiled apologetically.  
"What the King of the Elves may want from me?"  
"It's about the deal, Albus."  
Dumbledore took a deep breath. He totally forgot that the Order of the Phoenix asked Romben for help in the fight against Lord Voldemort.  
"So..?" he asked.  
"It won't work. I'm sorry, Albus. Since then when Amnius's regiment defected to Voldemort… Anything can't surprise me. Even in my country nobody believes others," sighted Romben. He put his head into his hand and bit his lip.  
Dumbledore frowned. "What happened?"  
The King was quiet. The silence filled the whole office.  
"They've killed her," he said finally.  
"What?!"  
"She has been tortured and killed. When I find them…"  
Romben clenched his hands into fists. With all his strength he was trying to control his emotions. Before his eyes there was a catastrophic scene again. He shook his head so as to emotions couldn't take control over him.  
"I am so sorry," said Dumbledore.  
"You know what the worst is? I had the chance been to ask her who done it, but I didn't have the courage."  
When Dumbledore didn't say anything on it, the King raised his head. He found his friend at the window brooding about something.  
"Something bothering you?" he asked.  
The Headmaster turned to him, and on his face was strained expression. This war has been destroying him. Albus closed his eyes wondering if he can tell him the news, so he took deep breath and began.  
"You know about the prophecy?"  
Apparently not, because the elf looked surprised.  
"Well, the oracle of local Professors has spoken. I'm afraid that's true."  
"Oh, Trelawney. What the prophecy is about?"  
"Do you want to know the exact wording?"  
"Of course."  
"So what's the problem?" The Headmaster raised his eyebrows. The King doesn't have to hold back here.  
Romben smiled, closed his eyes and focused on ancient charm.  
_"Praeteritum currenti."_  
The air swirled around them. Pages in the closed books were softly rustled. Time went backwards now. The surrounding has changed. The elf was sitting in his chair. It was a memory which only Romben could see. His friend was sitting on his desk. With a frown he was looking at the woman with extravagant look. When Romben looked carefully at her, he had to admit she looked almost crazy. Suddenly she spoke: Her raspy voice floated across the office.  
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as he seventh month dies…"  
Then from the witch came up a weird gurgling sound, and Romben was regurgitated back into the reality.  
"Wow," he said when he recovered a little. This was a strong cup of tea. "Who?"  
"According to my source, Voldemort chose the Potter's son."  
The Elf raised his eyebrows.  
"You got a source there? Since when?"  
"Since today," answered Dumbledore. "I hate to say it to you but it's Severus Snape."  
"What?! You want to believe him?!"  
"Yes. I'm sure he won't disappoint me."  
Romben was surprised with this credibility. He knew that Albus Dumbledore likes to give second chances, but to give a chance to wretched Death Eater at this time… And what's more, this Death Eater was the right hand man of Lord Voldemort. That was unforgivable. He hoped that his friend know what he's doing, this could turn to a big problem.  
They were shocked when the clock struck one o'clock in the morning.  
"Well, I should go back," whispered the King. "I hope we'll see each other again."  
"Me too. Goodbye, my friend."  
Dumbledore watched purple flames swallowing the old elf until he was gone.

xXx

Severus stood before stately mansion. He clenched his hands into fists; in his mind he was still replaying his conversation with Dumbledore. The Dark Lord couldn't find out about it. He felt a wave of nervousness follow: Can he hide it from this warlock who masterfully controls Legilimency? He didn't know if he has made a grave mistake.  
"How long are you going to stay there?" A cold voice interrupted him.  
Snape winced. "I'm coming, Lucius," he said.  
He took a deep breath and walked towards the other man, now wasn't the time for doubt. He had to bury his feelings under a heavy veil of mist which couldn't be lifted, even by Lord Voldemort himself. At least he hoped so. Soon he was following Lucius and they were walking along the gravel path. There were gardens everywhere, and on the dark green lawns a fog was lazily rolling. Before them was a huge horrifying house from classical times. When Severus saw this mansion for the first time, he was felt a wave of jealous, which shortly passed. The older the dynasty and sumptuous manor, the more often the Dark Lord dwelt there. And to be honest, it wasn't pleasant even for some Death Eaters.  
They stopped at the door made from dark wood. Lucius Malfoy didn't even bother to open the door, it just opened by itself, and it offered a look into the huge spacious hall. Venomous green tiles were complimented by the black joints. On lots of the places were white spots of plants with black fruits. The room was dimly lit by a massive chandelier, probably made from gold. The blond Death Eater went upstairs and stopped in front of the door that led into the room for special guests.  
"Now I leave you to your fate," Sneered Malfoy. He knew that the Dark Lord wasn't in the best mood. He turned and hurriedly walked away because he just didn't want to listen to the conversation, whether it was anything.  
Severus knocked and walked in without waiting for an invitation. It was clear that the warlock knew about him a long time before. He saw his master at the window watching the grim gardens with strolling peacocks and freezing, thawing water in fountains, pensively toying with his wand.  
"You wanted to see me, My Lord?" Snape suggested in a polite bow.  
"Have you ever heard about elves, Severus?"  
"Of course."  
Severus tried to be confident, but in fact, he was panicking. Yes, he heard about them - It was a part of basic education. The elves: magical creatures that didn't live in this world. Or so it said in textbooks. They were mysterious like all mysteries around the world.  
"You know, Severus, I'm thinking about getting rid of them. They are a big threat for me."  
Snape gasped. Elves were certainly a big nation and also far from weak. He wasn't afraid, but it was a hazard, especially when he knew that their King was a friends with Albus Dumbledore.  
"My lord, I apologize for my boldness, but wouldn't be better get them on our side?"  
"Absolutely not! Look at those few idiots who left them. They even couldn't bring their rare books! How do you think it ended?" Sneered Voldemort.  
Severus bit his lip. This wasn't going too well.

xXx

The King of the Elves was pacing in his room; The floor would have been a beaten path if it wasn't a magic carpet. His hands were clasped behind his back, and the old man was thinking hard. He stopped in front of the window and stared on his reflection.  
_When did you got so old?_  
The formerly peaceful face of an elderly man was heavily lined: From green eyes faded cheerfulness which was replaced with suffering. The tall figure seemed diminished, was he really that old? Or had his royal pride smashed into the nothing after death of his wife? The golden aura around the noble elf was gently flickering. It looked like in the last campaign, he thought wryly. In these last days it was too much for him, he was caring about his kingdom while helping his friend in the battle against the most powerful dark wizard of all times. The long life was so exhausting.  
He turned away from his reflection and with a sigh and slumped into a chair. He liked just sitting and doing absolutely nothing, ignoring everything. He began to hate the world around him.  
_I've been here too long…_ The idea of leaving was tempting, but… he couldn't leave. Not now. Not at a time like this. Would he go when he gets a chance? Others had it so much easier…

xXx

Only crunching frosted powder separated them from the irritant silence. Just a few meters, he grimaced. Finally though, he saw it: The place that was connecting this world with the mysterious world of the elves. He gestured for everyone to stop, and with a feeling of victory he looked at this magical place. This was really weird, it was quite common place, but around few trees was a strong, pulsing power. He felt it, the past month he was wandering around, looking for it.  
This time, he saw the whole gate. It didn't disappear like last time, and around the portal was vibrating energy. They could enter now, and it was easy. He took out his wand, the other Death Eaters following his example. He stepped forward and felt the familiar feathery tickle on his body. And suddenly they were there.  
Before them was a breath-taking forest, on the blue sky were the tufts of fluffy clouds. Down in the hill children were playing, their mothers cooking or doing laundry, and the men were dong the necessary work on their house. Peace. Lord Voldemort snorted in disgust.  
"Come on," he said, and they _apparated_.  
The joy from a sunny day suddenly turned into a deadly inferno of horror. Although men and women were trying to protect their kids, they weren't able to manage it.  
They were had the majority of population on their side, but still they couldn't protect themselves. How? Why? When? Why us?  
Desperate screams echoed into the dark.  
The Dark Lord smirked. Again he casted the Killing Curse. Again! Again! And again! It was fun, exhilarating, but not much more fun than taking a little brats lollipop.  
He looked around and saw the castle in the distance. Logically, there was probably an emperor there. He started walking forward, and when the others wanted to follow him, he angrily turned.  
"Finish it here. The ruler is mine!" He walked a little closer. A path to the castle was formed by half-dead elves, and soon he stopped before the gate, greeted by a group of sorcerers. They had to be damn good sorcerers as well, since an energy was pulsing around them. They attacked him directly at once, and he didn't know this spell, he had never even seen it before.  
_"Protego!"_ It worked but poorly. The shield has become a sieve. Flush affected places began to redden. He dropped it in favour of giving a counter attack;  
_"Avada Kedavra!"_ One down. Others, however, remained, but a large fireball took care of that. That too thought was followed by another Deathly Curse.  
The road was clear, and he slowly walked to the hall.  
"So, you finally found us, huh?" A cold, cool voice greeted him, and one second later a lightning bolt struck. The King of the Elves, Romben, stood before the Dark Lord.  
"Well, I have to say, the greeting ceremony wasn't necessary," Voldemort said.  
"I was able to expect this after Amnius and the other idiots has gone to your side." Replied the king.  
"Amnius?" Voldemort scratched the bruised elbow, the red spots actually quite painful. _What the hell was that spell?_ "Oh, you think that idiot. He couldn't even bring a couple of books," he said and returned the attack.  
Romben blanched. If this warlock obtained these books, it would be over. He took a deep breath and in his palms gathered a large ounce of energy, which he shot after Voldemort. A small, almost invisible spark settled on Voldemort's robes. It began to grow in size almost immediately, and the Dark Lord began to mindlessly attacking. The more powerful spell, the greater that spark grew. The Elf smiled and created a shield, reflecting another spell to Voldemort. Living through a whole bunch of centuries has some good advantages.  
"Power isn't everything," he whispered.  
At that moment the spark has grown into gigantic proportions. It engulfed the dark wizard and, at the same moment an emerald light floated through the hall. It passed through the shield as if it were nothing, and then there was a loud crack.  
The King fell, limp and cold.

_It was in December 1980…_

* * *

So... First I want to thank my beta and first reader - **DarkestRevelation**. Thank you so much! Then I want to tell you that English isn't my first language and I have to improve my writing skills. Still I hope you like it. I'll be glad for any review. _(And if you find any mistake, write it there or send me a PM)_


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